The Words You Say
by ForForever19
Summary: HS One-Shot. Quinn Fabray has been reading the dictionary and her best friend, Rachel Berry, is determined to figure out the reason why.


**Disclaimer**: I, by no means, claim to own anything remotely related to the Glee Universe. No copyright infringement intended.

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**The Words You Say**

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"Pulchritude."

Rachel Berry looks up from the text she's reading, her eyes settling on the owner of the voice. "What?"

Quinn Fabray has her eyes focused on her, the intensity behind them unnerving and oddly exciting at the same time. "Pulchritude," she repeats; "It means beauty."

"I know," Rachel says quietly.

Quinn grins. Of course, she does. What doesn't she know, really? "It originates from the Latin word, '_pulcher_,' meaning 'beautiful.'"

Rachel shifts in her seat, tilting her head slightly. "Why are you telling me all this?" she asks curiously, unable to resist. Quinn definitely has her attention now.

"No reason," Quinn says easily, returning her attention to whatever she's reading. "It's just a word I learned recently."

Rachel peeks at what she's reading and smiles knowingly. "Just how recently, Fabray?"

Quinn looks at her again, her eyes shining with something Rachel doesn't recognise. She feels unnerved by it again, which is somethings he hasn't felt around Quinn in quite some time.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Quinn says softly, a professional at faking her innocence at this point in their friendship.

"Quinn Fabray, are you seriously reading the dictionary?"

With a tiny grin, Quinn shrugs. "Seems a whole lot more interesting than this rubbish Mr Harris has us reading," she mutters, waving her hand in dismissal at the textbook on the table in front of her. "_And_ I'm learning new words. Like flagrant."

"What does that mean?"

"You don't know?" she asks, raising a patented eyebrow, her tone playful.

Rachel huffs in annoyance. "Tell me."

Quinn laughs lightly. "It means obvious, blatant or unashamed."

"Does it now?"

She grins at her. "Would you like me to use it in a sentence?"

"By all means," Rachel says, waving her hand in invitation. "I'm listening."

Quinn suddenly turns serious, her gaze meeting and holding Rachel's. "I, Quinn Fabray, can _flagrantly_ say that, under the definition of the word '_pulchritude_' should be the name Rachel Berry."

Despite herself, Rachel blushes a deep red, her voice suddenly and embarrassingly failing her.

"What?" Quinn asks innocently when Rachel doesn't respond. "Is there something wrong with my sentence structure?"

She laughs lightly, managing to compose herself. "You can be ridiculous sometimes, did you know that?"

Quinn's brow furrows. "Ridiculous, you say?" she asks, beginning to page through the dictionary hurriedly. "I'm not sure what that means exactly. Language of origin, please?"

Rachel quiets her by placing a hand over hers, invariably halting her movements.

Quinn just stares at her, her mouth hanging slightly open as she waits expectantly for what she guesses will surely follow.

She's not disappointed.

"Thank you, Quinn," Rachel says calmly. Then, her own insecurities coming into play, she adds: "but maybe you should look up the meaning of the word delusional as well."

Quinn stops her when she tries to take her hand away, by closing her own fingers around her thin wrist. Quinn tries not to focus on how soft her skin feels under her fingertips, but she can't help being momentarily distracted.

"Quinn," Rachel breathes, getting the blonde's attention.

Quinn clears her throat, blinking repeatedly to gather her thoughts. "Rachel, I'm neither ridiculous nor delusional," she says seriously. "Not in this regard, at least."

"Quinn," Rachel repeats.

"I'm not blind, Rachel," she says strongly. "I see you, you know? Behind everything you put up for the world to see; the way you always feel you have to defend your choices and beliefs; the way you feel obligated to apologise for putting your goals and dreams of Broadway first. I see the way you miss Shelby, even though you won't admit it. I also see the way you bite your bottom lip when you're thinking and the way you kink your brow when you're concentrating on something important. I see _you_, and what I see amazes me.

"So, you don't get to call me ridiculous or delusional because I finally managed to put into words what I see. You, Rachel Berry, are beautiful. There is nothing more _flagrant_ than that."

With those last words, Quinn releases her wrist and returns her attention to her ever-so-interesting dictionary, as if she hasn't just said anything to write home about.

Rachel is, predictably, frozen in place, stunned by Quinn's sudden monologue. She doesn't even know what prompted it, but Quinn seems so sure; so convinced. She's even tempted to feel Quinn's forehead to see if she's suffering from some kind of fever.

"Quinn," Rachel says carefully. "Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

Quinn glances at her. "I'm perfectly fine," she easily says. "Why do you ask?"

To Rachel, Quinn doesn't look _fine_. If anything, she looks flushed, even flustered, her cheeks tinged pink and her hair slightly mussed, which is saying a lot for the normally put together Quinn Fabray.

Rachel can't help but find her utterly adorable when she's like this.

"Liar," Rachel counters, aiming for playful but falling short, if Quinn's sharp look is anything to go on. "Seriously, what's got into you today?" she asks. "I mean, you're _reading_ a dictionary."

"I'm fine," Quinn dismisses, unable to look at her.

Rachel sighs. "Okay..."

Quinn stares down at the words on the pages of the dictionary, right until the moment she seems to make a decision.

Quite suddenly, she looks up at Rachel. "Why don't you believe me?" she asks, cutting into Rachel's reading about the French Revolution.

"About what?"

"About the fact I think you're beautiful?"

Rachel desperately wishes they can stop having this conversation, but she can tell, from the slight crease in Quinn's brow, that she has no intention of dropping the topic.

Quinn Fabray wants an answer and Rachel is going to have to give her one.

"Those are just the words you say," Rachel eventually says, which is what she believes.

Even though they've moved on from their previously antagonistic relationship, Rachel can't just… believe Quinn, especially when she's claiming to think she's beautiful.

Coming from the prettiest girl Rachel's ever met, it's kind of difficult.

Also, words are just words; they can mean nothing. It's really the actions behind the words that she's come to pay attention to. It's the number one reason she was even open to exploring this friendship after both their relationships - Rachel with Finn, and Quinn with Sam - fell to pieces.

Quinn will always have pretty words, but it's been what she _does_ that Rachel has responded to.

"And, I mean them," Quinn defends, not understanding Rachel's meaning.

Rachel sighs. "You would be the only one."

"So?" Quinn counters gently.

Rachel doesn't respond.

Quinn frowns, but says nothing more as she returns her attention to the dictionary. She pages through, absently reading the words and their definitions.

It surprises her that she actually knows quite a few of them. She's been an avid reader for the greater part of her life, and she's never really understood how it's shaped her own vocabulary until this moment.

It's definitely helped her hold her own during intelligent conversation, at home and at school. God knows that talking to Rachel has been practice enough.

"Are you really just going to sit there and read the dictionary?" Rachel asks after a while. She doesn't know why, but merely the fact that Quinn's not reading her World History textbook is bothering her.

It's not even as if Quinn is going out of her way to distract Rachel - not like Santana was doing earlier, which is why Rachel banished her from sitting with them in the library - but she's still succeeding.

Quinn takes a moment to look up at her. "Is it bothering you?" she asks, hearing the tinge of annoyance in her voice.

"No," Rachel lies, _flagrantly_. As she thinks of it, she smiles secretively, and Quinn might have died on the spot.

"Liar," Quinn immediately counters.

Rachel only smiles that bit more. "What other words have you learnt?"

"Congruous," she says easily.

Rachel spends a moment thinking about it. "In agreement or harmony," she says, defining it for Quinn.

Quinn nods. "Harmony."

"It's a good word."

"I've also learned the word superfluous, meaning unnecessary, especially through being more than enough." Quinn grins at her. "As in, all this reading Mr Harris has us doing is _superfluous_ information."

Rachel laughs. "That, my dear Quinn, was perfect sentence structure."

She shrugs. "I try."

"What else?"

She raises an eyebrow. "Don't you have reading to do?"

"I'm sufficiently distracted until Glee," she says dismissively. "And besides, don't _you_ have reading to do?"

"Just for your information, I've already done it," Quinn says seriously, her eyes never straying from Rachel's perfect face.

Rachel looks at her in disbelief. "What? When?"

"When you were in English earlier."

Rachel blinks. "Oh."

Quinn just smiles at her.

"But, if you've done all the reading, what are you doing here?"

"I'm reading the dictionary."

"Quinn," she says pointedly, her eyes narrowing. "What are you _really_ doing here? You could be out on the bleachers, soaking up the sun, or even working on choreography with Santana. Why are you here with me?"

Quinn just shrugs again. "I've been meaning to read the dictionary, you see," she says, her voice almost sounding musical. "I hear it's supposed to be an exhilarating read, and this is as good a time as any, I guess."

"Quinn?"

She sighs. "Why can't I just sit here, Rachel? Do you want me to go?"

"No," Rachel quickly says. "I'm just wondering _why_."

"What do you want me to say?"

"I don't understand why you're getting so defensive."

"I don't understand why you're so interested."

"Because, I want to know."

Quinn can't say why she's getting so irritated but she can't help it. "Fine, if you don't want me here, I'll just go sit somewhere else!"

In a flurry, she slams closed the dictionary, and then her World History textbook, grabs her pieces of paper, her pencil case and stands. Without a word more, she picks up her backpack and makes her way across the library.

What is _wrong_ with her?

Quinn is already sitting at a new table by the time Rachel recovers from her sudden departure. She can't be sure of what just happened. They were perfectly fine a minute ago, and then... was it something she said?

Stubbornly, Rachel returns to her reading, determined not to allow Quinn's exit to ruin her studying. Though, she didn't lie when she said she was sufficiently distracted.

By Quinn.

Rachel glances up at Quinn several times and, every time, the blonde is sifting though her dictionary. It just baffles her, really. Why would she want to spend her last free period indoors, reading an actual _dictionary_? Never mind Quinn's sitting with her while she did it; just merely the fact she was _doing_ it.

With great difficulty, Rachel is able to focus enough to return to her reading. Quinn is right in that it's completely boring and entirely unnecessary. Especially when it comes to the fact they're so close to the start of summer.

During a break in her reading, Rachel glances up to look at Quinn, only to find her gone. She's no longer sitting at her table, and her things are nowhere to be seen.

Rachel can't help the hurt she feels. Quinn Fabray doesn't make a habit of leaving without her these days, and the fact she didn't even tell her she was leaving strikes something deep within her.

Rachel knows, in this moment, it's going to be near impossible for her to return to her reading, so she busies herself with packing up her things. She's not entirely sure what to do about her Quinn situation, whatever it actually is.

Maybe Santana knows what was wrong with her.

There's an idea.

She'll just ask Santana.

There are several loose pieces of paper left over, and she gathers them up to throw into the paper recycling bin on her way out. They have her own scribbles and Quinn's doodles on them, and she can't stop herself from sifting through them.

She absently smiles at the little pom-poms and the many _many_ stars Quinn has drawn, both her and Quinn's initials sporadically written across the pages.

But, it's one particular piece that catches her attention. It has only Quinn and Santana's handwriting on it, as if they passed it between only each other as part of their cryptic notes during class.

Rachel can't help herself.

_Fucking hell, Fabray! Stop moping about and just tell her already..._ It's obviously Santana's writing, with her surprisingly big, loopy letters.

_I am not moping about, and you know I can't do that._ Quinn's handwriting is much neater, near perfect. Rachel would know it just about anywhere.

_Just tell her._

_Santana, you know that I can't. And, stop telling me what to do._

_If you tell yourself that enough times, you'll believe it. Honestly, if you don't tell her, I will._

_Don't you dare! _The ink is more pronounced and Rachel can tell Quinn was panicked by that suggestion.

_Then just tell her!_

_Santana, I can't! It isn't as if she'll believe me anyway. I'm just going to end up ruining everything. (AND make a complete fool of myself while I'm at it)._

_You don't know that. You CAN'T know that! Quinn, please, just tell her._

_I can't! I don't have the words to convince her._

_That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard (read)! If you don't have the words, then find them!_

_Fine! I will!_

_Fine!_

Rachel can't stop herself from thinking these two best friends could be incredibly childish sometimes. She has absolutely no idea what they're even talking about, but she's suddenly determined to find out.

Whoever _her_ is has to be the reason Quinn is in such a mood. And, whatever _words_ she's looking to find have to be the reason for her sudden, if not strange, obsession with the dictionary.

Rachel makes the decision not to throw away any of the pages. She's quite fond of Quinn's doodles, even when sometimes she's not. There are things she does sometimes - like draw, or write - and Rachel wonders if Quinn even knows how great she is.

Because, she truly is.

She's marvellous.

Rachel eventually makes her way towards her locker, her mind focused solely on Quinn, the girl's disappearing act and her ridiculous dictionary. The more she thinks about it, the more confused she becomes. She's going to have to talk to both Quinn and Santana now.

But, neither girl is to be found in the corridors, and she isn't all that surprised by it. She's tempted to text one of them, but she thinks better of it.

Waiting until they all met up in the Choir Room for Glee seems like a much better idea. They'll probably be less defensive that way.

She hopes, at least.

After she drops off her things in her locker - making sure to pocket the page with the written conversation in her shirt pocket - Rachel makes her way to the Choir Room by herself.

It affords her the time to go through the events of the day more clearly. Despite her apprehension about what's going on with Quinn, she's rather eager to find out what has her best friend so out of sorts.

As expected, neither girl is in the Choir Room yet.

After a quick greeting to Artie, who has Brittany in his lap, Rachel moves to sit in her usual chair in the front row, determined to wait out her _childish_ friends.

She has to wait nearly fifteen minutes for Santana and Quinn to show themselves and, from the look of them, she can only guess why.

Most of Glee has already arrived when they come tumbling in, their uniforms looking dishevelled, and both of them wearing scowls on their faces.

The closer they get to Rachel, the more obvious it becomes that they've both been involved in some sort of scuffle.

Quinn even has a split lower lip, which is joint for Rachel to see.

"What happened to the two of you?" Rachel asks immediately, frowning heavily.

"Nothing," they answer at the same time, before they shoot glares at each other.

Santana plonks herself down on the chair beside Rachel, while Quinn remains standing, looking as if she's contemplating something very important.

"Aren't you sitting down?" Rachel asks her, masking her own irritation and confusion with expectancy.

Quinn looks at her for a moment and then opens her mouth to say something, but seems to think better of it. She just shakes her head, and then moves to sit with Mercedes across the room without so much as a word.

Forcing away her deep hurt at the dismissal, Rachel immediately turns her attention to Santana. "What happened?"

Santana can't stop her frown as she tries to straighten out her skirt. "We had a disagreement," she grumbles.

Rachel reads her tone for what it is, and her eyes widen in alarm. "With _each other_?"

"She's so fucking stubborn," Santana complains. "I don't know why she won't just _listen_ to me."

Rachel reaches into the pocket of her shirt and pulls out the folded piece of paper. "Does it have anything to do with this?" she asks, passing it to Santana.

Santana's frown only increases as she takes the paper from her, but it turns into a look of utter panic when she reads the words. "Where did you get this?"

"What is it about?"

"Where did you get this, Berry?" she repeats, trying and failing to remain stoic.

"I found it in Quinn's scraps when I was cleaning up after she effectively abandoned me in the library," she explains, her tone picking up some sourness along the way. "What is going on with her?" she asks. "I mean, she was literally reading the dictionary."

"She was what?"

"The dictionary, Santana... She was _reading_ it, to find words."

It takes a moment for it to sink in, and then Santana bursts out laughing, literally doubling over from the intensity. "Wow. I didn't think she would take me so fucking seriously."

"Santana," Rachel says seriously. "What is going on?"

She seems to sober at Rachel's tone. "Look, you're going to have to talk to Quinn," she informs her. "She'll kill me if I say anything, and you know I would tell you if I could."

Rachel, undoubtedly, has many more questions, but she doesn't get the time to ask them, because Mr Schuester eventually arrives and immediately starts the lesson.

Still.

Just from this little interaction with her Latina friend, she knows whatever has Quinn so bothered is something big.

Big enough that Quinn and Santana are taking swipes at each other, and that hasn't happened since the start of the school year.

Whatever this is seems more important than the position of Head Cheerleader.

And, as soon as Mr Schuester dismisses them after Glee, Rachel is suddenly certain that the _her_ they referred to in their notes to each other is actually her, Rachel Berry.

Quinn disappears from the Choir Room in a rush, and Rachel gets roped into a conversation with Mr Schuester about their Nationals' set list that doesn't yet exist.

All Rachel can really hope for, once she's set free, is that Quinn hasn't yet gone home. They have a standing routine that sees them meet up in the auditorium after Glee, for Rachel to sing and for Quinn to play the piano.

So, Rachel is actually surprised to find Quinn sitting at the piano. A part of her was convinced she would have already left, given the way this day has gone, but she's somewhat grateful to spot the blonde perched on the piano bench.

Quinn isn't playing anything, though. She's rather focused on her now ever-present dictionary in her lap.

Rachel moves towards her immediately, intent on getting her to talk to her. She barely gives Quinn time to react to her presence as she unceremoniously flops down beside her, immediately linking their arms so Quinn can't escape.

"Rachel?" Quinn squeaks, her dictionary almost falling to the floor.

"No," Rachel says, raising a hand to keep her quiet. "Santana said the two of you got into a disagreement and I want to know why."

Quinn presses her lips together, determined not to say anything.

Rachel sighs, clearly noticing Quinn's stance. "Look, I'm sorry I was so curious about your dictionary-reading, but, even you have to admit it's a little strange. I've known you since, well, we were fourteen, I guess, but I've never seen you read the dictionary before. What is all this odd behaviour, Quinn? You and me, we don't keep secrets from each other. Not anymore, at least."

Quinn takes a deep, shaky breath. "I don't know what you want me to tell you."

Rachel retrieves the piece of paper that she suspects is going to help get to the bottom of all of this. "Well, why don't you start with this?"

Quinn takes the page from her and, like Santana, her eyes widen when she realises what it is. "Where - umm, where did you get this?"

"On the table in the library," she explains. "You left it behind."

Quinn places the page in her dictionary and closes it. "You were never supposed to see it," she says.

"But, I did," Rachel points out. "Now, are you going to tell me what you and Santana had your disagreement about?"

Quinn heaves a sigh. "It doesn't matter."

"Clearly, it matters," she counters pointedly. "You and Santana don't fight like this anymore, Quinn. I mean, you're still bleeding."

Quinn touches her lip with her left forefinger, as if she's just remembering, and she winces. With a sigh, she finally confesses, "Santana wants me to tell you something, but I don't know how to."

"Tell me what?"

"What does it matter anyway?" she asks sadly. "It isn't as if you'll even believe me, anyway."

Rachel blinks , recalling their conversation from earlier. Quinn _had_ gone off after Rachel asked her why she didn't believe her, and that seems to be the problem now. "Try me," she offers.

Quinn looks at her, her eyes betraying her and her feelings, leaving her a completely open book. She's sure that, if Rachel were to look closely enough, Quinn wouldn't even have to open her mouth to reveal anything.

It takes her a moment, but she eventually works up the courage to say, "Tell me, Rachel, would you believe me if I told you I love you?"

Rachel thought she was prepared for whatever Quinn was going to say, but she's really not.

Not even a little bit.

Quinn doesn't even skip a beat. "Do you know how they define love in the dictionary, Rachel?"

Rachel's too stunned to speak, so she just shakes her head.

Quinn meets her gaze, speaking from memory. "_Love_. Noun. Verb. One: a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person. Two: a feeling of warm personal attachment or deep affection, or three, which is my personal favourite: the feeling I have for you."

The two of them just sit and stare at each other for a long while, before Quinn can't handle the silence anymore.

"Do you need more?" Quinn continues, slight panic reaching her tone. "Because, I have more. I've been looking for more for quite some time, so do you want to know how _I_ define love?" She doesn't wait for any type of response this time. "It's the way my heart rate picks up whenever you're around. It's the way I want to do everything in my power to make sure you have an endless supply of great days. It's the way that, out of everybody I've ever encountered, it's with only you I truly feel _safe_.

"I can't go a day without hearing your voice. I never want to see you hurt or sad. All I want to do with my time is sit with you, look at you, talk to you, touch you. I feel like you're a part of me; that whatever affects you, affects me too, and that's incredibly scary because I've always felt as if I've been alone my entire life. I want to be better for you; I want to be worthy of you.

"I'll probably never get another chance to tell you all of this, because I've clearly just ruined our friendship, but I need you to know this is everything I've ever wanted to tell you. I love you. I absolutely adore you, even when you're annoying the hell out of me with your nagging me to watch musicals with you or with your stubborn rule-following tendencies. Nobody has ever understood me like you do. Nobody really bothered to get to know the real me before, and I don't know anyone in this world who I could ever dream of living a happy life with, other than you.

"So, what I'm really trying to say is that the definition of love, to me, is you."

Rachel just continues to stare at her, willing her own brain to process faster. She eventually opens her mouth to say something but no words come out, and Quinn's face falls.

"So, there," Quinn suddenly says, handing Rachel the dictionary before she struggles to her feet. "I just thought you should know. Santana was right. You definitely deserve to know."

Rachel still can't find the words as she watches Quinn walk away from her, suddenly just knowing that, if she doesn't say something _now_, their friendship really will really be ruined.

Even though she has absolutely no idea what to say to Quinn, she knows she has to speak.

Right now.

Right this instant.

"Quinn," she calls out, setting the dictionary on top of the piano and rising to her feet. "Quinn?"

When Quinn stops at the first step leading off the stage and turns to look at her, Rachel is hit by the obvious pain she can see in hazel eyes. The girl just poured her heart out, and Rachel said nothing.

Rachel makes her way towards where Quinn is standing and moves to stand right in front of her. "Look at me," she says gently, and then she waits until Quinn is looking her in the eye to speak again. "You don't get to just say all that stuff to me and then walk away," she says seriously. "Some things take time to process."

Quinn isn't sure what to say, because she's not entirely sure what _she_ is saying.

"I believe you."

Quinn blinks. "What?"

"I said I believe you," Rachel repeats.

"You do?"

"Wow, you _are_ surprised, aren't you?"

Quinn audibly swallows, asking a completely different question. "Are _you_?"

The more she thinks about it, the clearer her answer becomes. The truth is she's not all that surprised that Quinn feels these things. In the back of her mind, she thinks they've been leading up to something like this, but she just didn't expect it to be today.

"No," Rachel finally answers.

"Good."

"I don't know how to respond to you," Rachel admits. "And, I know it's surprising there's something I don't know, but this is definitely it. Feelings are confusing."

"You don't hate me?"

"Why would I hate you?"

Quinn looks away, flushing in embarrassment. "I don't know," she admits. "I thought about every possible scenario, and I guess this just wasn't one of them."

"So, none of your scenarios were positive then?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, Rachel Berry, but things don't tend to work out all that well for me," she says. "This included."

Rachel reaches for her hand and, now that she knows about Quinn's feelings, it just _feels_ different. There's no longer any innocence in such a gesture, and Rachel isn't sure what to feel about that.

Quinn stares down at their entwined fingers, her heart thumping in her chest. "Why are you so calm about this?" she has to ask.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Umm, I don't know," she admits. "I just, well, I was worried."

Rachel squeezes her hand. "Please don't be," she assures. "We're okay, Quinn."

Quinn still looks unsure. "But, what happens now?"

Rachel takes a breath, gathering her thoughts. "Now, I suppose, we talk about it. You don't get to just walk away, okay?"

Quinn tenses, but eventually nods her head. "Okay."

Rachel smiles at her. "I always imagined we would sit down and have a very mature conversation about this," she admits.

Quinn's eyes widen slightly. "So, you've thought about it before?"

Rachel blushes, clearly caught. "I have," she confesses.

That definitely piques Quinn's interest. "And, just what else have you thought about, Miss Berry?"

"I don't think you should be asking questions you don't want the answers to," she warns gently.

"Fine," Quinn allows, because this is all overwhelming enough. "But, answer me this, then: will you go out on a date with me? This Saturday?"

Rachel just stares at her, her head spinning, because this is really happening. Quinn Fabray is asking her out. Quinn Fabray just confessed to loving her.

Truthfully, having Quinn confess her feelings didn't feel as scary and overwhelming as this, and she can't truthfully say why that is.

"This is me, Rachel; I'm taking action now," Quinn says, sensing Rachel's hesitation. "I didn't get it before, but I get it now. It's never really been about the words, has it? You don't listen to words. You listen to actions."

Before she can stop herself, Rachel throws her arms around Quinn, squeezing her in an unexpected, bone-crushing hug.

Quinn stumbles back a step before she hugs Rachel back. "If I'm reading _your_ actions correctly, I'm going to assume this means yes," she murmurs, so close to Rachel's ear.

"It does," Rachel confirms, pulling back and releasing the blonde.

"I love you," Quinn says again, surprising them both.

Rachel supposes it's going to take her a while to get used to it, but she feels extremely calm, given the circumstances.

"Is that okay?" Quinn asks suddenly, sounding slightly panicked. "Can I say those words?"

Rachel reaches up to kiss her cheek. "It's the actions that count anyway, Quinn," she says reassuringly, smiling up at her. "Those are just the words you say."

* * *

_Fin_


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